


Facing the Nemesis of Iron

by fraufi666



Category: House of Cards Trilogy (UK)
Genre: Admiration, Alternate Universe - Politics, Ambition, Authority Figures, Gen, One-Sided Attraction, Politics, Statues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 22:27:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5223317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fraufi666/pseuds/fraufi666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Francis Urquhart is ruthless and unshakable. Yet this all changes when a statue is erected at the front of 10 Downing Street, without his knowledge and against his will. Being his predecessor, Margaret Thatcher, he tries to remove the sculpture. But upon closer inspection, will his opinion change?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Facing the Nemesis of Iron

**Author's Note:**

> Almost all the characters in this story belong to Michael Dobbs. This story was directly inspired by The Final Cut, the third book in the House of Cards trilogy. I do not take credit for either. One of the chapters of this book raised the idea of a statue of the Iron Lady on Urquhart’s doorstep. I found this so amusing that I wanted to play with the notion that the statue did succeed in being placed in front of 10 Downing Street.

He opened the curtains. To his horror, she was there. Although her back was towards him, there was no mistaking in who she was. He could have recognised that sharp suit and the helmet hairstyle anywhere.

"Oh the nerve!" Francis Urquhart moaned in dismay. 

"Whatever is the matter?" Mortima, his wife asked. 

"Look out, just look at it!" He cried gesturing wildly at the outside figure. 

It only took a moment to realise what had grieved her husband so much. The statue of the Iron Lady stood there boldly in front of 10 Downing Street. 

Bewildered, she turned back to him. "I thought you told them that it would reflect poorly on the government to have a statue of Baroness Thatcher here. Especially with the way her cabinet turned on her…"

He silenced her with a wave of his hand "It's pointless. I already discussed everything. There's no use now. We'll have to find some way to remove it." 

"Remove it?" Mortima asked quizzically "But..how? Who is going to allow you?" 

Urquhart glared back at the turned back. "I will. I'm the Prime Minister after all, so if there is meant to be a statue in front of 10 Downing Street, it should be me!" 

Quickly he got dressed and went to see his staff immediately. 

  

"I don't care if they've already funded for her." Urquhart said stubbornly "The Thatcher society have no right to just place a statue in front of my house without running it by me first! It's the work of a delinquent, nothing more!"

"I'm sorry sir…" The Chief of Staff apologised, but to no avail, "But donations were already taken and they said that they had already received permission from you. I was on the phone to them just five minutes ago and they said that you signed a form-"

"What RUBBISH! I did no such thing!" He was livid. "Talk to the council and get them to remove it and no questions!" 

"But how can I when-" The man started to ask, but by then Urquhart was already out of the door. If the Chief of Staff did not want to ring the council, he was going to do it himself. The man was spineless anyway, and it was no point in asking him to do anything. 

He retreated back into his office and made a phone call. A council member gasped in delight as he recognised Urquhart's voice.

"Prime Minister! Oh it is so good to hear from you. Whatever can I do for you?" 

"I want you to get rid of that blasted statue that is in my front yard." said a clipped voice on the other end of the line. The Prime Minister was not one for wasting any time. "And quickly! And before you tell me that-"

"I'm sorry sir, but we can't get rid of her. It's against policy." 

He wanted to laugh, but was too angry to. "POLICY?! You're the _last_ person to speak about policy! Some delinquents from the Thatcher society erected a statue in my front yard without any permission. Can't you do something about it?" 

There was silence on the other side before the man had regained his composure. "Well, Prime Minister..if it makes you feel any better, would you like me to put a statue of you out in front next to her?"

His eyes widened in fury and before the other man had a chance to take back his statement, the line went dead. 

 

The rest of the day, Urquhart had tried to do his work, but he could not even focus on the task at hand without thinking about the statue. No matter how hard he had tried to forget it, the sharp silhouette would reappear in his mind more prominently. Even meetings with his cabinet were difficult to bear. He could not focus on a single thing his colleagues were saying. Every word glided past him despite his every effort to grasp some form of meaning from them. 

"Are you okay, Prime Minister? You look exhausted." One of his colleagues asked. 

"I'm fine." He lied, "Just give me a few minutes for some tea and I'll be back." 

"I think you may need to take a rest." The colleague suggested.

His heart was thudding quickly. Was the cabinet member suggesting an early retirement? He had had enough of hearing those suggestions. Even the Baroness had been in power for a longer time than he. There was no way he was going to be beaten by a women! 

A crease formed between his brows. Not again. Thatcher was the last person he had wanted to think about. Why was everything somehow related to her?

"I am not ready to leave yet." Urquhart said, straightening his back. His cold eyes were piercing into the younger colleague's eyes, visibly intimidating him. Yet somehow, he had not completely lost all confidence.  

"No..of course not sir. What I mean is to just take a break for the rest of the day. You could do with a nap, perhaps." 

 

With reluctance, Urquhart gave in and was driven back to the home. On the way back, he was dreading looking back at the statue. He wondered if it would be possible to walk back indoors with his eyes closed, yet dismissed the notion right away. Passersby would judge him immediately if he was too scared to look at his predecessor's statue. He knocked on the tiny window that separated him and the driver. 

"I would like you to take a detour back to 10 Downing Street." He said to the driver. The man obeyed, knowing that there was no way he could question the one who was paying him. 

He needed time to think, but more importantly, he did not want to spend time looking at the statue. With some childish hope, it would have been ideal for the driver to arrive back to the house when it was too dark to see the statue. But of course things were not going to be so simple. There was no way to ignore Thatcher forever. 

 

With dread, the car pulled up at the front yard. Urquhart strode back to the house, trying to ignore the statue. Yet just as he had almost succeeded in reaching the door, the silhouette stood in his peripheral vision, as if begging for just a glimpse of attention.  

_I will not let a statue get to me!_ He thought in defiance. Slowly, he turned to look back at her. All he saw was her back. Gingerly, he took a few steps forward, just to see her properly. If he had wanted to face his demons, he was going to do it directly. He was going to face the uninvited guest who destroyed every ounce of confidence and self control that he had no problem in keeping beforehand. 

Without a minute's thought, he turned to look at her directly. At first, all he saw was another famous face in stone and it did not bother him all that much. If anything, he was starting to feel a bit better. She was not as intimidating as he thought. 

But there was something different about her face. Something about it struck him and he could not take his eyes off her. He remembered how she had such penetrating eyes, and although they were not as vibrant without colour, they had not lost their edge. She looked so strong, so determined…almost beautiful in fact. 

He blinked. No. He was not going to fall in love with a statue. The idea was preposterous. He was a married man. But as he looked at her again, he could not help but feel as if he seen all she had seen. Those eyes had probably witnessed more war and bloodshed than he did when he had served on the front line as a young man. Those same eyes had witnessed many deaths, many sleepless nights and saw some of the most difficult decisions in history. He had done the unthinkable, for he had faced his nemesis of iron. A nemesis of many. She was hated, yes. But now that he thought of it, they did not seem that much different. Although she had so many enemies she was still able to inspire awe and respect from a large majority of the nation. He would give anything to have the same respect by the British people…perhaps even more so. To his dismay, as he continued to gaze at her Urquhart realised that he could even learn a thing or two from his predecessor.  

Urquhart realised that he could not hate her. But he still could not love her either, for she was still in a way his nemesis. Yet in his chest, his heart fluttered. It was not love he had felt for her, but the deepest possible admiration a person could ever feel for another. It was the admiration that even those who were afraid of her felt. 

It was respect. 

 

After a final glance, the Prime Minister went back into the house and picked up the phone. Hastily, he dialled the number to the local council before he could stop himself. After looking at the statue, he was not the same man he was this morning. 

"Prime Minister," The same member had answered him "I have just spoken to the Thatcher society. They heard of your complaint and are going to remove the statue by tomorrow morning-"

"Leave her there." Urquhart snapped, much to the council member's surprise. He then added another statement to further surprise him. "Is your offer for a statue of me still standing?" 

"Why yes but-" 

"Then it's settled. Erect a statue of me with the Baroness." 

 

The next day Urquhart and Thatcher stood in front of 10 Downing Street. Although separated by so many years, the strongest people in Britain in stone were united in spirit. They guarded the position of the Prime Minister, making sure that no one could seize it. They were going to keep him safe, and more alert on his toes. If any opponent had tried to take him down, the added power of the Iron Lady was going to give him the strength shove any opponent down further into the muck. They were going to lose all power and respect. But not him. He was going to rise over them, just as his statue towered over the locals.

 

  He looked out of his window, smiling to himself as he faced his nemesis of iron. Urquhart knew that without a doubt, like Thatcher, he would spend many more years in Parliament. 

 


End file.
